


Over Soul

by vforvesta



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, gay robot smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 09:31:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9715535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vforvesta/pseuds/vforvesta
Summary: alternatively titled: dirty robot fuckerhappy valentine’s dayalso i'm salty that this is my most viewed/kudosed fic. must i resort to porn to satisfy you horny lot?





	

**Author's Note:**

> alternatively titled: dirty robot fucker  
> happy valentine’s day
> 
> also i'm salty that this is my most viewed/kudosed fic. must i resort to porn to satisfy you horny lot?

His blade came down faster than lightning, arcs of neon green flaring through the sky as he deflected the projectiles with ease, before sprinting forward and cleaving the turret into two. Genji felt the orb latch onto him, relief humming through his circuits and flesh, boosting him further.

 

The omnic droids were relentless, never halting for a moment, never faltering. When one went down, another replaced it or the hivemind reconfigured itself to assume a more tactical position. Genji grimaced, sprinting up a pillar in the hangar to get a better vantage point from above.

 

“Not good,” he radioed through his comms system to his partner. “We’re under heavy fire from all directions. There are some Bastion models making it very tough to pass through-"

 

He flicked another scattershot array of shuriken towards the omnics, lodging them in their muzzles. Genji leaped to another pillar as a stray rocket exploded on the one he was perched on, and then returned fire. Unfortunately, there was little time to calculate the trajectory of his shots, and could only be used as suppression at best. Except, such omnics have no fear, and suppression is almost useless. 

 

“I don’t suppose I could convince you to form meaningful relationships with them and guide them through various existential crises?“, his partner’s voice crackled through the interference. 

 

If Genji had eyes, he would roll them. “Ha ha. Very funny."

 

The pillar he hanged from crumbled now, and the cyborg lunged forward, sword in hand. Two swift strikes disabled two targets, and Genji had to move on, staying mobile. “How’s our friend holding up back there?"

 

“Alive. But if you don’t secure a viable path towards the hangar-"

 

“At this rate they’ll just blow up the whole place with the ship as well,” Genji grumbled. "I’ll do what I can."

 

He sensed the gatling barrage before it went off. Genji did a backflip into the open, deflecting every single round back into the Bastion unit, riddling the sentry with its own bullets. Using the exploding mech as a cover, Genji made a beeline towards another turret, firing off three consecutive shuriken that destroyed it before he took cover. They’d reduced the number of hostile forces to below ten, but that was still ten too many. Also, reinforcements would arrive if they couldn’t finish this quick, and then it would become a war of attrition.

 

Genji and his partner were too fragile to last that long.

 

Bellowing could be heard from behind him, like gears grinding at a low frequency to produce a howl if robots could howl. Sneaking a short peek, Genji could make out a giant omnic, at least twelve feet tall. And it was barrelling towards him.

 

He was tempted to take the titan head on, but as usual, the orbs allowed him to reconsider his reckless nature. The golden ball on his spine still pulsed with life and vitality, and he could just make out the purple sphere that latched itself onto the smaller, lesser droid accompanying the titan. Looking closely, he noticed that there were three different droids forming a triangle around the giant omnicc.

 

“Support,” Genji realised, with only static through his comms to confirm his statement.

 

Another volley of shuriken to snipe the teetering droid, and as expected, another purple orb found its way onto the next droid. Genji abandoned cover now, blade extended, as he rushed the second droid and eliminated it in one clean strike.

 

The titan turned its attention to Genji now, a beam of deadly plasma energy carving the floor beneath him. He took out another two more turrets around him through deflecting and projecting, all while getting into the optimal position.

 

“Go get them,” his partner’s voice could be heard in his head.

 

Sheathing his wakizashi, Genji gripped the handle of the Odachi on his back.

 

_"龍神の剣をくれ!"_

 

Green illuminated the cobalt chamber as the dragon spirit followed the arc of Genji’s blade, the Orb of Discord already planted on the giant mech. In one swift strike, Genji slashed through the last support droid, and then turned to face the giant, sword dancing in the air.

 

The lumbering titan fizzled as Genji carved his way into its interior, using the robot’s bulk as cover while making short work of it. The machine clattered as the life went out of it, and it crashed to the floor, defeated.

 

“Alright Zenyatta,” Genji declared as he sheathed the Dragonblade. "The big bad has been taken care of-"

 

Sirens blared in the air and Genji could sense the rush of air filling the hangar, as a carrier landed and proceeded to unload even more omnics. They weren’t fast enough.

 

  
"クソ馬鹿", he cursed under his breath.

 

"Language, Genji,” Zenyatta reminded.

 

Genji sized up the oncoming army. “We have to leave now, or we’ll never get to-"

 

“But the fire is still too heavy. Neither of us can get out there without getting blown-"

 

As though to prove his point, the reinforced door leading to the ship exploded, leaving charred debris everywhere. The next shot would bring down their last means of escape.

 

“Not a fan of getting totally obliterated again, Zen.” Genji already started deflecting the projectiles aimed at him. “I know you’ve taught me about how the self is without form, but-"

 

“That’s it,” Zenyatta exclaimed in the calmest way possible, the epiphany hitting him. “Get to the ship, defend it. We’ll be joining you shortly."

 

And with that the communications cut off, and Genji could only trust his partner as he deftly scaled up the wall leading to the hangar.

 

“This better be worth it!” he shouted. “I’m not really a last-stand kind of guy!"

 

On cue, the glowing, radiant form of the Shambali monk made an appearance, serene amidst the pandemonium as he drifted as fast as possible towards the hangar. Zenyatta was like a golden statue, an omnic monk having achieved a state of transcendence, potential realised and now completely invulnerable to any attacks.

 

The ambassador was nowhere to be seen.

 

But Genji didn’t question his partner for a second. The ethereal light flickered just as Zenyatta passed him, and the trance-like state dissipated. He drew his Dragonblade a second time, refusing to lower his guard until Zenyatta was in a safe and secure position. The blade’s sheen was mesmerising, the intricate patterns whizzing and creating afterimages as Genji reflected the bullets and rockets, the dragon spirit guiding and watching over him.

 

A hovering drone took to the skies, equipped with a laser beam - something Genji couldn’t guard against. He leaped back, eyeing Zenyatta as his partner boarded the aircraft, starting its engine by hacking into it-

 

He hardly felt the pain of him left arm being blown off from behind.

 

Genji turned, absent-minded and almost tripping as Zenyatta made short work of the droid, two nicely placed orbs destroying it. But more airborne drones were dispatched, and still reeling from shock, Genji allowed two more to blaze into his right leg.

 

Even Zenyatta’s orbs couldn’t patch up an injury as massive as this. But Genji hung on, Zenyatta aiding him as he shambled onto the ship. In a final act of defiance, Zenyatta entered his transcendent state once more, allowing Genji to board safely as the monk remotely piloted the ship, and they took off to safety.

 

They soared towards the stratosphere, rocketing themselves into the clouds where they would remain under cover. The ship was built for stealth, and they would have little problem staying undetected as they flew to safety, escorting their ambassador back to their home embassy.

 

“Remind me,” Genji spluttered, mechanic voice jarring and unfiltered. “To never take another Overwatch commission."

 

Putting the ship on autopilot, Zenyatta had more immediate concerns. “You’re hurt,” he stated, upset.

 

“I guess I am,” Genji said, eyeing his non-existent left arm and completely busted up right leg. At least he still had both swords. He could replace the wakizashi, but the Odachi was priceless. He’d rather die a million deaths than see anything happen to it.

 

“What about our escort? I can’t imagine you leaving them behind and-"

 

Zenyatta placed his fingers to an approximation of Genji’s lips. “Thank you for your concern, but I have them. They’re right here.” Reaching into a groove in his body, Zenyatta produced a chip no larger than a human’s thumb. Genji understood.

 

“True self is without form,” he forced a chuckle. “Or at least, it doesn’t have to be a body."

 

“They can get their body back,” Zenyatta agreed. “What matters now is that they’re safe, and that we’ve completed our mission."

 

“Just barely,” Genji sighed. “I wonder what they’ll say when they realise they have to replace the ambassador’s body."

 

“That can wait. But my friend, you’re hurt."

 

The way Zenyatta’s words swept over him was soothing enough to distract Genji from his mangled frame. But as the monk supplanted an Orb of Harmony on him, he felt much better.

 

“Let me look at you,” Zenyatta insisted, fingers trailing the intricate circuitry, observing the crude wiring that now stuck out of Genji’s shoulder blade. There was no flinching, no wincing, no anything. There was nothing to feel, and Genji felt numb, hollow, exasperated that there was no sensation in his left arm. Any sensors were destroyed with the arm, blown off, and the fact that they could be replaced only spoke volumes about his humanity. Or lack thereof. He thought he’d made peace a long time ago, but self-actualisation was never so easy, was it?

 

Even with the helmet shielding his face, Zenyatta could sense the unease in Genji. “What’s wrong, my friend? Is there…"

 

The old Genji would’ve brushed the monk off immediately. Honour and pride were values the Shimada clan had deeply instilled in him. But now he’d learned to cast that fragile masculinity aside, in favour of open, honest communication. Genji nodded once even before Zenyatta had finished, despite maintaining an unmoving facade.

 

“Oh, Genji.” Zenyatta placed a caring hand to his helmet. “You know you can talk to me about anything."

 

The cyborg ninja flexed his right hand, feeling his metallic digits contract. There was something here, something raw and primal and powerful that had always existed. 

 

"I know my existence as both man and machine is a gift few have. And that form is fleeting and temporary and that we are so, so much more than our shells. Yet this vessel that I reside in... it pains my heart to see it so... damaged, and empty."

 

Looking to his left, Genji attempted to move the phantom limb that wasn't there. "But there's just. Nothing. And suddenly I just don't feel whole anymore, even though I know I'm not lesser in any way."

 

"Matters of the heart are always the most challenging," Zenyatta purred, keeping his protege close to him. "And I can understand the need to indulge in matters of the physical. After all, is that not what our bodies are for?"

 

Genji seemed to mourn at Zenyatta’s statement. "This broken body of mine? Impossible."

 

“Oh, my friend.” Zenyatta caressed Genji’s sturdy chest. “Your body is beautiful."

 

“It might’ve been,” Genji shrugged. He felt a tightening in his stomach as he reminisced the sheen of his chromium frame, the way the metal sparkled and complemented his blade. How nicely proportioned his features were, how their slick curves emulated the muscles he once had. But he went back further. Back to a time of flesh and bone, of smooth, delicate skin with rippling power beneath. Of the different kinds of awe he could inspire in others. How his charismatic charm would draw in crowds of men and women alike. How he could have his pick of the finest mates, indulge in the most hedonistic of pleasures, the way his member-

 

He pushed away such sinful thoughts now, thoroughly disgusted that he had the capacity of them in front of his ascetic friend. Genji could only sigh as he focused himself back to the present. “But even though I know it can be repaired… now I feel so empty. So-"

 

“Hush now,” Zenyatta leaned in. “Would you like me to make you whole again?"

 

Genji started to protest, but Kenyatta was already conjuring up something with his orbs. As though he could read Genji’s mind, the monk dredged up four Orbs of Harmony, pulsating with an ambient, rhythmic glow. One attached itself to the socket of Genji’s missing arm, and a twin followed suit on Zenyatta. The remaining two did the same for Genji’s injured leg, and mirroring itself on the monk.

 

And then the orbs produced tiny shockwaves that undulated between the pair, and Genji gasped as he _felt_ again in his destroyed limbs. Whatever Zenyatta was doing, it restored Genji from whatever temporary nadir he had fallen into, filling him to the brim with an existence that he could only describe as transcendental. This wasn’t merely a restoration to his former self. It felt far and beyond. Sometimes, you had to lose something to realise how precious it was.

 

Genji’s epiphany and path to inner peace was fraught with peril. It hadn’t been easy, and it wasn’t a single eureka moment that did it for him. It was months of learning acceptance, or travelling and meeting others, of meditation and reflection. It was a journey. But this was all of that coalesced into a single, perfect span of time and space.

 

He shuddered as the sensation decreased, and the orbs returned to their original host. Zenyatta was beaming, ever pleased that he could’ve done something.

 

“That… that was…” Genji was out of breath, even though he didn’t exactly need to respire.

 

“We could go further, if you like,” Zenyatta suggested. “It was quite an experience for me as well. The fusion of omnibus is something few have ever achieved."

 

Genji frowned slightly. “Fusion?"

 

“What we achieved just now was merely resonation. First and foremost, the orbs tuned your natural frequency to mine, reaching a harmonic overtone that allowed the sharing of the concept of your limbs. In that moment, your body processed my limbs as yours and yours as mine. We were one."

 

Genji mimed the sensation of mouthing the words. _We were one_. Coming to terms with his dual-existence alone was no small feat, grasping the sheer scope of it all. But the merger of two separate consciousness into one? The thought was so overwhelming, Genji couldn’t even begin to imagine it.

 

“But it is quite taxing on the soul. Even omnics who do not tire experience the sensation for the first time.” Kenyatta placed his hand over his metaphorical heart. “It was quite draining, but it felt… phenomenal."

 

“What is the next step?” Genji asked.

 

Zenyatta placed his fingers thoughtfully on his chin. “The final stage is to exist as a single, unified being, despite originally being two distinct entities. This is the highest form of a relationship, something only omnics can achieve. Eventually, a certain kind of physical balance needs to be attained, as well. And while the merger of two souls is close to impossible, I think my abilities would aid us greatly in that regard."

 

Genji swallowed hard, his larynx one of the final few functions of his human body that still worked. It no longer served its original function, but he found it oddly comforting in situations like these. “This… this is…"

 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to go down this particular rabbit hole,” Zenyatta shrugged. “I originally advocated for the earlier synchronisation because it is a known technique - albeit a rare and exotic one - for physical therapy on damaged omnics. It’s known to lift both the spirit and body, but of course…"

 

Zenyatta trailed off as Genji once again reached for that sensation in his fingertips. And noted how absent his left hand felt, and how fulfilled he had been when Zenyatta had ‘fused’ with him, even though it was minimal. 

 

He had to have it again. He had to have more.

 

Genji wrapped his remaining arm around the slender girth of Zenyatta’s waist, feeling the throbbing hum of his torso, the way his axles whirred when he moved the slightest, the way his gears meshed together. The warmth radiating from his core, transferring to the cool metal of Genji's hand. A moment of intimacy, almost passion unbridled, the way they connected. Zenyatta felt it too, and that there, was Genji’s answer.

 

“Shall we?” Zenyatta initiated.

 

Now, six orbs encircled them both, stringing themselves together with their latent energy. Zenyatta placed both his hands on Genji’s lap, spreading his thighs apart as he crept to his stomach, letting the orbs amplify his purring. Genji explored Zenyatta’s svelte body - so fragile and thin yet containing so much within. He let his emotions guide his fingers, his thumb rubbing against Zenyatta’s sternum, trailing to his collarbone, his neck. They felt each other, metal against metal, matching each other’s rhythm to their partner’s, letting the spectrum of emotions wash over them.

 

Six now expanded to eight, the orbs now spinning and rotating, accelerating as they created a field which drew both of them closer together. With the same fluidity in all his movements, Kenyatta detached his left arm in one clean motion, the connection severing itself without resistance as the metal melded itself, a crescendo that seared itself onto Genji. Now, they really did share the same arm.

 

“Wow,” Genji managed to vocalise, making micro-movements to ground himself in the reality of the new arm. “That’s just-"

 

“No words,” Zenyatta shuddered. "It’s just the two of us now…"

 

The Shambali monk jerked ever so suddenly, and Genji could feel the recoil as well. He knew why Zenyatta was so anxious too, courtesy of their linked minds. Now, Genji sent a wave of serenity to Zenyatta to calm him down, eager to do something that could ease up his partner, and used his - their - new arm to reach into Zenyatta’s groove, fingers delicately reaching in to extract the microchip that held the ambassador.

 

“Three’s a crowd,” Genji said, before tossing it to the side.

 

“I’m not sure I’m ready to give myself to more than one person,” Zenyatta crooned, pressing himself closer to Genji, making sure to feel his partner even more. He craned his neck in the direction of the chip. “But… aren’t they..?"

 

“Shh,” Genji now turned Zenyatta to face him directly. “They don’t matter. Concentrate. Focus on me."

 

They made contact, locking eyes, and there was no turning back.

 

Genji’s right leg ejected itself, any nuts and bolts letting themselves loose, any clasps unlatching and wringing themselves free, and so did Zenyatta’s. In a strange kind of ritual, they were both slowly inhabiting the same body, Zenyatta’s essence leaking into Genji, and Genji making room to let his partner in. Zenyatta gave new life to Genji, and he did likewise, putting both their heads together as they vibrated almost violently, each layering of frequencies bringing about higher and higher levels of resonance. 

 

Any human bits left of Genji acceded to his cyborg body’s requests, instantly absorbing the new information as they evolved, Zenyatta leaving his shell to merge with Genji, almost like a data transfer but not quite, downloading himself into an oversoul more than the sum of its parts. Like alchemy, Genji’s body started filling itself with patches of Zenyatta’s trademark gold, the metal now reconfiguring itself to match his partner, molding itself into a hybrid body that was the outward personification of them. What was the body, but a reflecting of the self?

 

Zenyatta was deep within Genji now, almost such that both were intertwined, unspeakable, the rows of code or data or whatever it is that constituted them blending, each paragraph written between the lines that unfolded into a beautiful essay, a composition of two melodies into a song - not quite a symphony, but the way a duet sounds like a single voice, and they could almost feel the climax of their new self coming into being, a birth of someone beyond anything else.

 

Genji found himself arching his back, quivering in delight as they both started to make sense of themselves. He found the raw, positive emotion impossible to contain, defaulting to the human action of grinding his groin against Zenyatta’s - no, his… no, their - hand, as though the act of clamping it in between his thighs would suppress whatever it is he felt. If he had skin, it would be flushed. If he was capable of blushing, he would, the similar feelings registering in his mind as he moaned, a low, guttural expression as Kenyatta’s body lolled its head back, now disconnecting from what was once Genji’s body, but now so much more.

 

In a final burst, a last effort to reconfigure and accept itself, the hull that was Genji Shimada ejaculated into a chorus of praise.

 

**_"馬のペニスは、アボカドと素晴らしいです!!!"_ **

 

And then the machine spluttered, not coughing or dying but just, cooling down, almost on the verge of overheating. The orbs now inherited a light cyan quality to it, expediting the process of bringing the cyborg's temperature to equilibrium, like an improvised form of homeostasis.

 

Then, a soft golden glow exuded itself from the robot's temple, coiling out and taking form like a string, tying itself into a ribbon as their head tilted upwards, pulled by the string. Flashes of sporadic data filled the helmet's visor, as the machine rebooted, coming to life once more.

 

Genji, or Zenyatta, or both or neither, now he - or they? - felt their combined existence as one, the exhilaration and rush of their new being. It was a life beyond anything they could’ve imagined individually.

 

But now they’d never have to be alone.

 

Genyatta - or Zenji? It didn’t really mattered what they were named. There was plenty of time to figure that out later. But they placed each arm over their chest, two different yet oh so similar structures, fingers intertwined as they felt the soft beat from their core, two hearts now as one. Yes, they felt beyond whole now.

 

They were complete.

**Author's Note:**

> Let it be known that my porn debut essentially boils down to gay robot smut. That’s right.
> 
> For the record, I took this entirely seriously, and only when reading back can I see how ridiculous this could possibly feel when read differently, which has brought me to the conclusion that all porn is comedy without the right frame of mind. That, or maybe I’m just not very good at writing thirsty nsfw.
> 
> Bonus points for running the Japanese through google translate.


End file.
